"Tenney, the milk dealer? His farm is over there to the left a mile or two. Would you like to call on the bride?"
"Yes, I should! Wouldn't you, Polly?"
"First-rate! Let's!" was the eager answer.
So at the next cross-road the car was turned that way.
"I'm awfully glad you thought of it!" Polly turned to say.
"I didn't think of going there," Miss Mullaly admitted, "but I'd love to. Won't she be surprised!"
Surprised, indeed, was the former Mrs. Dick. She was on her way from garden to kitchen when the procession of cars came into view, and, her overflowing basket in hand, she halted on the side lawn until the party should pass by. A bunch of automobiles did not appear every day on the Tenney Farm road. Instead of going past, however, the big car ahead steered straight for her, and she recognized her friends! Down went her basket, and she skipped over the grass with the agility of a girl of fifteen.
"How do you do—Miss Sterling and Polly—and all of you! Well, I am astonished!—And if there aren't Miss Twining and Mrs. Bonnyman—why, are you all here?"
"Pretty nearly," answered Polly, who had jumped from the car and was clasping the speaker's hand.
Mrs. Tenney was soon surrounded by her Home associates and was so overwhelmed by the suddenness of the call that she almost forgot to invite them into the house.